


The Waterfall

by Burning_Nightingale



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: First Meetings, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 17:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20393683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Nightingale/pseuds/Burning_Nightingale
Summary: Seeking to escape a night of insomnia, Glorfindel goes out for a ride. At the pool where he stops to bathe, he encounters an unexpected new acquaintance.





	The Waterfall

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this lovely artwork by Zhie: https://www.deviantart.com/z-h-i-e/art/Awakening-810960213
> 
> Part of the Tolkien Reverse Big Bang 2019. Thanks to the mods and of course my brilliant artist!

Even in the peace of the House of Imladris, there were those still troubled by dreams. Glorfindel had seen them walking the halls and gardens at night, sometimes alone, sometimes stopping to speak to one another. He had gone out there himself, spoken with those who seemed open to it, tried to take solace in the company of others; but always such quiet conversations left him still lost and lonely.

There was no one else like him; no one else who did not fit here. Even those troubled by their past had made a place for themselves in Imladris, and the valley and her people had formed into shape around them. Glorfindel told himself to give it time; that had not happened in a day for them, and it would not happen quickly for him, who was so very out of place, so very different. But it was hard - especially for a man who had been so sure of his place, of his loyalty and duty, for so much of his life.

He would even have welcomed dreams - at least that would mean he could sleep.

This time he did not go into the House or out to the gardens. Instead, he went down to the stables. The horses snuffled and shifted in their stalls as he crept through, and he could hear the snores of the stable boy in the hayloft above. Keeping silent as he could, he retrieved bridle and saddle from the tack room, then roused a reluctant Asfaloth from his stall. “Apologies for calling on you this late, my friend,” he whispered to the horse, smoothing his hand across his pristine white coat. “Or maybe I should say early?”

Asfaloth wickered quietly; Glorfindel was sure he could hear disapproval in the sound.

“Come, let me give you some oats as an apology.”

Asfaloth perked up a little at this treat. He munched it down, then stood obediently as Glorfindel saddled up and swung onto his back. Within minutes, they were out on the road that wound its way up through the valley, flashing past under the black trees and the midnight sky.

Glorfindel had always felt better doing something, rather than sitting still. Out here, with the wind in his hair and Asfaloth’s hooves thudding against the rough ground beneath him, the sights and sounds and sensations were enough to take his mind off anything else. It was enough to ride, and not think.

When they crested the lip of the valley and reached the grassland beyond, Glorfindel let Asfaloth have his head, and they went thundering over the plains. Glorfindel could tell the horse was enjoying himself, getting to stretch his legs and run freely, without danger chasing behind or any particular destination to reach ahead. The pace was fast, exhilarating; but underneath the rush, Glorfindel could still feel that cold little pit inside his chest. The worry that he would never belong; the regret that he had agreed to come back at all.

Eventually Asfaloth began to flag, and Glorfindel slowed their pace. They were many miles from Imladris now, and the faintest tinge of pink was beginning to colour the eastern sky. Glorfindel let Asfaloth walk, letting his powerful muscles cool down from their exertion. The thought came that he should turn for home; that Elrond would worry if Glorfindel was gone when the household woke.

He’d never run from his duty, but the thought of yet another day in the House was so wearisome that he turned Asfaloth instead towards a small pool he knew of, just a little ways further into the east.

It was not that the inhabitants of Elrond’s House did not try. They saw that he wanted to be treated as one of them, and not like a legendary war hero; but there was an old painting of his battle with the balrog in the Hall of Fire, a canvas someone had brought with them out of Lindon that was propped up among the other assorted art treasures and the new murals that Elrond had had painted on the walls. Everyone had seen it, and most couldn’t quite erase the awe from their voices when they spoke to him.

The cliffs sprung up out of the land unexpectedly, a great crack in the landscape. Glorfindel turned Asfaloth to ride along them, under a thickening cover of trees; after a few minutes he caught the sound of crashing water in the distance.

The cliffs rose up around the pool, bare sandy rock dotted with patches of foliage clinging to ledges and cracks. The shoreline beyond the trees was rocky, and the water cool and blue and deep, the surface disturbed into many dancing ripples where the waterfall crashed down. Glorfindel had found it on one of his long patrols through the area, and had come back often to bathe and relax.

He didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary until he’d already swung down to the ground and gone to one knee, about to dip his hands in the pool and douse his face. Before his fingers touched the water, he heard a splash that sounded like more than just the waterfall.

He went up to his feet on instinct, hand reaching for the hilt of his sword. It took him a moment to spot the figure in the dim light; they were standing under the waterfall, their back to him, letting the water cascade down over them. They were also completely naked.

Glorfindel averted his eyes, at which point he spotted the horse that had been tethered to a tree on the other side of the pool. The animal’s coat looked to be a deep black, and it was clearly of good breeding; its saddle was heavily laden with bags, as if belonging to a traveller. Glorfindel also noted the twin swords and longbow affixed there, and felt a little bit of tension go out of his shoulders. The stranger might be armed, but if they were hostile, Glorfindel could get to their weapons before they did.

Asfaloth wickered beside him, and the black horse gave a quiet neigh back. Glorfindel heard another splash from the water, and reluctantly raised his eyes.

The stranger had turned to face him, and had mercifully stepped into a deeper part of the pool, meaning water and long dark hair preserved their modesty for the time being. “Forgive me,” Glorfindel said, still feeling slightly flustered, “I didn’t mean to intrude-” Then he stopped, cursing internally. In his discomfort, he’d jumped instinctively to his native Quenya, which no Avarin elf was likely to understand.

He thought the stranger smiled, and words in a smooth, lyrical language floated back to him, completely foreign to his ears. “Sorry?” he said, this time in Sindarin.

“My own little joke,” the Avarin elf said, their voice full of humour. “I have not heard someone speak Quenya in quite some time.” The stranger gestured toward the pool and the waterfall and said, “This pool is not mine alone; you are not intruding. Stay, please.”

“I- if you don’t mind,” Glorfindel said.

“I do not. The water is quite refreshing, if you don’t mind the cold.” Glorfindel caught another smile, and then the stranger turned to face the waterfall again - probably to give him some privacy.

He had been planning to bathe, but now he hesitated, caught in indecision on the side of the pool. The stranger had invited him to stay, but it felt rude to intrude on his bath. Then again…

Glorfindel shook his head, but the image reminded; he could not get it out of his head. Wet, black hair, smooth, dark skin…

He should not be tempted by it - the stranger had certainly given no indication his thoughts lay in that direction - but he was. By even the _potential _of it.

He stepped into the pool.

When he was immersed up to his chest, he ducked under the water, digging his fingers into his hair, rubbing at the scalp. When he surfaced, the stranger had turned around to watch him. “Forgive me, I barged in on you without introducing myself at all,” Glorfindel said.

“To be fair to you, I have not yet given you my name either,” the stranger said. His dark eyes watched Glorfindel with a spark of amusement. “Erestor.”

Just ‘Erestor’, Glorfindel thought - no ‘son of’ or any other distinguishing signifier. Interesting. “And I am Glorfindel,” he said, bracing himself. The moment he gave his name was usually people stopped interacting quite so comfortably with him.

The stranger - Erestor - tilted his head. “Glorfindel? That’s quite a name with which to saddle a child.”

Glorfindel blinked. “What?”

“Was Glorfindel not a legendary Noldorin war hero? Glorfindel of Gondolin?”

Glorfindel stared at him a moment longer before it clicked. Naturally, rather than leap to the assumption that _the _Glorfindel had returned from the Halls of Mandos, Erestor had assumed he was a different elf with the same name. It was not common among the Noldor to name children after famous heroes, but perhaps that was not true among the Avari.

“He was,” Glorfindel said, and though he knew he should admit to the truth, something stayed his tongue.

“Forgive me; it is rather rude to cast aspersions on your name. It isn’t as if you chose it!”

“You are, of course, forgiven,” Glorfindel said, smiling.

Erestor returned the smile. “You may cast aspersions on my own name, if you like.”

Glorfindel hesitated, then said in what he hoped was a teasing tone, “It is fairly simple. ‘Kinsman’ would be the meaning, no?”

“It’s only an Espesse, really,” Erestor said, “My parents never gave me a Sindarin name. But I like it well enough.”

_Whose kinsman were you when the name was given? _Glorfindel wondered, but decided it might be too personal to ask. Instead he said, “It seems from your saddlebags that you’re on a journey.”

“Near the end of one, I hope. I am heading to Imladris; I believe it is near here, though I have never set eyes on the place.”

“Then you’re in luck,” Glorfindel said, “I have come from there just this morning. It is an hour and a half, maybe two hours ride straight west. And with me to guide you, you won’t have to waste time searching for the entrance to the path.”

“Wonderful,” Erestor said, beaming at him.

“Is there someone there you know?”

“I have long been acquainted with Lord Elrond and his family,” Erestor said. “I have been travelling in the East for several years, but I had a longing to see him and my friends on this shore again.”

Glorfindel nodded, then fell silent, unsure what to say next. To break the silence, he ducked his head under the water again, scrubbing at his hair, then surfaced and sloshed water up over his shoulders and chest.

“If I may ask, what is it that brings you all the way out here, Glorfindel?” Erestor’s voice asked.

Glorfindel glanced at him. He was floating comfortably in a slightly deeper area of the pool, clearly enjoying the water now instead of washing himself. “I…” Glorfindel hesitated. “Honestly, I just wished to ride. I was… having trouble sleeping.”

“I see.” Erestor’s gaze was piercing. “You wished to… get away from the silence?”

This stranger saw into others’ hearts clearly, Glorfindel thought. For a moment he remained silent, unwilling to reveal himself; but Erestor had seen it, and there was no real reason not to be honest. “Yes,” he said tersely, “Something like that.”

“The visions of night can be troubling,” Erestor said, his voice sympathetic.

“Would that I could see them,” Glorfindel said, “I find that instead I spend the nights staring up at my own ceiling.”

“Ah, I see. That is an entirely different problem. Not one I’ve ever been faced with myself, I admit.”

“I am sure it will pass in time. Once I grow used to Imladris, perhaps.”

Erestor’s eyes lit with interest. “So you are a newcomer to the settlement, then?”

A newcomer to this Age, Glorfindel thought. “Yes. I have been there but a few months.”

“And do you like it? The people, they’re welcoming?”

“They are – I have no fault to find with the people or their leader. Or the valley, for that matter.” Despite himself Glorfindel smiled. “It will be a place of great beauty, given time.”

“I long to see it,” Erestor murmured. “Though I admit I long to see Elrond more. He’s well?”

“He thrives,” Glorfindel said. “The valley is good for him, I think.”

Erestor smiled. “Good.”

They fell again into silence, though Glorfindel thought it easier, more relaxed than before. He finished off his ablutions, lingering longer than was necessary, not wanting this calm, quiet momen to end. Erestor was floating on his back some ways off, seemingly in no hurry to get out of the pool and move on. When he could pretend to be washing himself no more, Glorfindel allowed himself a moment to just float, too, staring up at a sky that was fast changing from black to gold, heralding the arrival of the sun. He let the water carry him, and let his eyes slip closer. It was the most peaceful he’d felt for months.

“Be careful not to fall asleep,” Erestor joked. His voice was closer than before, and when Glorfindel cracked one eye open he found his companion standing near, looking down at him with a smile.

“I have not fallen asleep in the bath since I was a babe,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Good. I would hate to have to save you from drowning.” Erestor turned and moved out of his sight; a moment later he said, “There is a cave behind this waterfall, did you know?”

Glorfindel tipped back up to his feet so he could watch as Erestor swam closer to the waterfall. “No, I had never noticed it before.” He pushed off the pool’s rocky bottom and swam forward, easily catching up with Erestor as he reached the pounding rush of the waterfall. When he stood next to him, Glorfindel could see that there was a ledge that would be easy to pull oneself up onto, leading to a dark space behind the waterfall.

Seeming to have no concern for his own nakedness, Erestor pulled himself up onto the ledge and began to crawl in toward the dark little cave. Glorfindel hesitated behind him, trying not to stare at his toned, lithe body as it was revealed from the water. What intentions did Erestor have, exactly?

None, other than to explore the cave, it seemed. “It goes back a surprisingly long way,” he called.

Well, if he has no issue with it, neither do I, Glorfindel thought, chastising himself for being a prude. He’d seen plenty of other men naked before. He pulled himself out of the water and onto the ledge, then followed Erestor into the cave.

The space inside was easily wide and deep enough to accommodate both of them, though not high enough for them to stand up. Glorfindel crouched, looking into the cave, which went back much further than one might expect, about ten paces or so. Erestor had gone a little way in, having to duck and crawl as the roof got lower. “Anything interesting?” Glorfindel asked.

“Not really,” Erestor said. “It doesn’t look like anything lives here.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” Glorfindel said as Erestor shimmied and crawled back out, “I’ve never been particularly fond of snakes.” That, he imagined, would be the type of creature to make their nest in a cave like this.

At the lip of the cave it was possible for them to stand, if they bent their heads to avoid the rock above. They both stood there for a moment, watching the water, before Erestor dropped down to perch on the ledge. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured, reaching out a hand to touch the spray.

You’re beautiful, Glorfindel wanted to say, though he knew not where the impulse came from. It was objectively true – it was impossible not to notice how attractive Erestor was, both in face and body – but it would be incredibly forward to admit such a thing. Instead he agreed in a low murmur, watching erestor’s bright, open face. The joy and contentment there stirred an emotion in him to which he could not put a name.

Eventually Erestor sighed. “The sun is almost up,” he said, “As much as I enjoy this place, I should not keep you from your duties. We should be on our way.”

Glorfindel was already late for the start of his day, and he would have liked to sit there forever; but he didn’t want Erestor to see him as someone who shirked his duty. “Yes, let us be off,” he agreed, “And I shall introduce you to the valley of Imladris.”

/

When Erestor had said he knew Elrond, Glorfindel hadn’t suspected quite how close the two of them would turn out to be. Elrond greeted him like a member of his own family, and installed him in his own room in the House – which, as the House was still only half built, was quite the honour. Glorfindel stretches the truth a little, telling Elrond his lateness was due to finding and aiding Erestor rather than lingering overlong at the pool, but his lord didn’t seem concerned.

Glorfindel realised he felt better over the next few days; and when he spent a moment to think about it, he realised that the amount of staring and attention had gone down drastically since Erestor’s arrival. He was no longer the newest, most exciting stranger in the valley, and public attention had shifted. Much as he felt guilty about Erestor receiving the same scrutiny he’d endured, he also couldn’t deny his relief.

Still, when Erestor appeared at his door one evening, eyes narrowed, Glorfindel couldn’t help but feel the guilt return, though he had no idea what Erestor was here for.

“It seems you may have neglected to tell me something, upon our first meeting,” Erestor said.

He instantly had an idea of what Erestor might be referring to, but he played dumb. “Oh?”

“Yes indeed, Glorfindel of Gondolin, of the House of the Golden Flower.”

Glorfindel winced. “Yes. Well, it… was a lie of omission, at least.”

“And I’ll forgive you for it,” Erestor said, “So long as you keep the promise you made at that same meeting.”

Glorfindel tilted his head. “Promise?”

“Did you not promise to introduce me to the valley of Imladris?” Erestor asked, smiling.

“Oh. Well, yes! I mean, I would be glad to.” Glorfindel glanced at the window, where the light was turning swiftly to dusk. “Now? Tonight?”

“If you have no other commitments.”

“I do not.” Glorfindel tosses aside the book he’d been reading and stood. “Er- any requests for the first stop?”

“With your expertise, I will let you decide.” Erestor held up a bottle. “I did bring this, though.”

Glorfindel couldn’t help but laugh. “Elrond won’t be pleased when he learns that’s gone.”

“Maybe so – but he owes me.”

/

Which was how they spent an evening touring the valley together, seeing all the places Erestor had not yet visited – and how they ending up having a late night picnic whose only refreshment was wine, which lead to an amusing but embarrassing stumble back to their respective rooms at the end of the night.

Glorfindel had almost been drunk enough to suggest that Erestor join him in his room, rather than return to his own; but he had managed to hold the words back. It would not, he thought, have been appropriate, and Erestor had shown no interest of that kind toward him.

The night did, however, start a promising friendship. It was good, Glorfindel reflected, to know that someone else also knew what it felt like to be the object of stares and curiosity, the centre of the gossip mill. Erestor had not yet revealed the details of his past or how he knew Elrond, and rumours flew every which way. The fact that he was Avarin only made him more curious, as members of the Eastern peoples were rare here in the west. The mystery only deepened when it was revealed that his father had in fact been one of the Noldor.

Glorfindel never asked him about his parentage, or his past. He wondered, of course - there were many things about Erestor that were intriguing, such as his skill with both the Avarin double swords and the Noldorin longbow, the fact that he talked about Beleriand as if he’d lived there, and that he could speak both Quenya and Ancient Khuzdul with fluency - but Glorfindel didn’t ask any pressing questions. It was enough to have his friendship, and Glorfindel wasn’t going to jeopardise that – with awkward questions or pushing for more. They were friends, and that was more than enough.

That was why he thought nothing of it when Erestor asked if he’d like to go back to the pool where they’d first met. It was a beautiful, peaceful place, and it would remind him pleasantly of their first meeting. They rode out on a sunny, warm afternoon, racing each other across the plains, and were suitably hot and sweaty when they finally reached the pool.

As they stopped the horses, Glorfindel laughed. “You know, before, I didn’t even notice you until I had already taken a knee by the water’s edge, ready to wash my face.”

Erestor raised an eyebrow at him. “A warrior should probably be more observant.”

“True. But a certain other warrior didn’t appear to notice a horse riding up behind him.”

That made Erestor laugh. “I admit, I did not. I suppose we were both as bad as each other.”

They dismounted, and Erestor didn’t hesitate before disrobing and heading into the pool. Despite his reservations, Glorfindel forced himself to do the same; if Erestor did not think it strange, then he would not make it so.

“This place is perfect, don’t you think?” Erestor asked, basking in the water. It was certainly hotter than last they’d been here, and the water more refreshing, but Glorfindel found he didn’t particularly have a preference between the two. There had been a quiet, all-encompassing sense of calm in the early dawn light of their previous visit. Now, alive in the sunshine and calls of birds and beasts, the place was just as inviting.

“I agree,” he said, smiling over at Erestor.

Erestor smiled back, a smile that was half a smirk, almost… sensuous. Glorfindel blinked at him, taken aback, and in a moment it was gone, replaced by a splash as Erestor disappeared under the water. He reappeared a moment later a few feet to the left, shaking his head and wiping water from his eyes. “Valar, that’s good after that long ride,” he said, his tone completely normal, and then he asked Glorfindel an innocent question about something that had gone on last week at the barracks, and Glorfindel was left wondering if he’d even seen that smile at all.

They enjoyed the water for another hour, then returned to the bank - and their clothes - to eat the picnic Glorfindel had picked up from the kitchens. Erestor praised the cooking and his choice of dessert, and Glorfindel began to settle, thinking he must have misinterpreted things. After all, Erestor had never shown any interest in him as a lover; it was just wishful thinking on his part.

It was shaping up to be a long, hot midsummer evening, and when he saw Erestor eyeing the pool, he said, “We have more than enough time to go back in, if you would like.”

“Elrond isn’t expecting us home for dinner?” Erestor asked, grinning.

“He told me he wasn’t going to wait up.”

They plunged back into the pool, and Glorfindel flipped over to his back, closed his eyes and luxuriated in the cool water. It was just as soothing and peaceful as it had been the first time.

“I was thinking I would look behind the waterfall again,” Erestor said.

“Mhmm,” Glorfindel hummed, not opening his eyes. He waved a hand in what he thought was the waterfall’s direction, inviting Erestor to go on without him, and judging by the splashing, he did.

Glorfindel stayed in the same position for quite some time before he finally got the urge to move again; when he rolled back up onto his feet, Erestor was nowhere to be seen. “Erestor? Are you still behind the waterfall?” he called.

His friend called back an affirmative, and Glorfindel propelled himself through the water and up onto the ledge, taking the same path back behind the waterfall. Erestor was sitting there, one leg drawn up to his chest, one hand stretched out to the flow of water that pounded down into the pool.

“Are you well?” Glorfindel asked, taking in the slightly melancholy expression on Erestor’s face.

Erestor startled as if Glorfindel had woken him from reverie. “Hmm? Oh, yes, I am fine. I did not hear you approach.”

“You must have been lost in thought,” Glorfindel said as he sat down beside Erestor.

“Memories, more like,” Erestor murmured.

Glorfindel frowned and reached out to put a hand on Erestor’s shoulder. “Now I know there is something wrong, my friend.” He squeezed Erestor’s shoulder lightly. “Tell me.”

Erestor sighed. “Glorfindel, we have always been honest with each other, have we not? I know I have not told you much about me, or my past-”

“I have not asked,” Glorfindel interrupted, “Honestly, I know what I need to about you; you are my friend, perhaps my closest still living on these shores, and that is enough.”

Erestor winced slightly, though Glorfindel could not fathom why. “Well, then. Suffice it to say I know much more about your past than you do mine, and…”

Glorfindel felt apprehension clench in his stomach. “What?”

“I know that _The Laws and Customs of the Eldar _very much held sway in Gondolin,” Erestor said.

“That’s true,” Glorfindel said cautiously.

“It… as I understand it, they are quite clear that love and marriage should be between one man and one woman, are they not?”

Glorfindel could feel his heart pumping faster in his chest. Was Erestor saying-? But surely he could not be-?

“This is not so among the Avari or the Sindar - as you probably know, of course, you’ve been living here long enough to have- well, anyway,” Erestor cleared his throat. Distantly Glorfindel realised that he’d never seen Erestor look quite so awkward before. “Anyway, what I mean is, I am actually glad I found out you were from Gondolin before… well. Let us say that, last time we were here, I did for a moment consider… propositioning you.” Erestor glanced to him and then quickly away, and Glorfindel realised he’d been gaping like a fish. “It is fairly common in the East,” Erestor said, his tone a touch defensive. “The lands are vast and elves are few. When one meets a stranger and gets the measure of them, sees that they are honourable, sometimes they like to… see if they might successfully come together as partners.” Erestor cleared his throat and continued, “Of course I dismissed the thought almost immediately; I knew the Sindar and certainly the Noldor had no such custom, and it would be unthinkably forward. I did think of offering again, though, after our tour of the grounds and our-”

“Late night picnic,” Glorfindel cut in, his voice a whisper.

Erestor blinked at him. “I didn’t- you had guessed. So you- you know? Do you disapprove?”

Slowly, Glorfindel shook his head. “I had the same thought,” he said, his voice a rasp.

Erestor looked shocked. “What?”

“We didn’t-” Glorfindel shook his head, took a second to gather himself. “Just because the _Laws and Customs _were the law, that does not mean we all _followed _it.”

Erestor was still blinking at him in surprise. “You didn’t? But I thought-”

“That even the lowliest peasant had his marriage arranged for him? I know that is the rumour, but it is not quite the truth - at least, marriages were not arranged for everyone. But they were for the upper classes, and they were strictly between men and women. But in the privacy of our own homes…”

“I see,” Erestor nodded; then he gave a quiet laugh. “Forgive me; I have heard so little of Gondolin save rumour. Even current historical wisdom seems to suggest that citizens’ lives were dictated to quite a particular degree.”

“That is both true and untrue, I suppose.” Glorfindel waved a hand, “But more of that later.”

“Indeed,” Erestor said, a touch of humour still in his tone. He sounded absolutely serious when he asked his next question, though. “You did not get married?”

“I was… well, to be honest, I was an ass about it, and being a member of Lady Elenwe’s family allowed me priviledges others did not have - for example, the right to refuse any and all suitors the King picked out for me. I think in the end Turgon simply gave up.”

“He did not suspect?”

“I do not think he did.” Glorfindel hissed through his teeth in frustration. “We are still talking around the most important issue here.”

Erestor tilted his head at him. “Which is?”

“You were going to- how did you put it? Proposition me?”

That smirk Glorfindel had caught before returned in full force. “I was, was I not. May I assume that you would be amenable to such a proposition?”

“I might if anyone had made one,” Glorfindel said, raising his eyebrows.

Erestor laughed, and leant forward to loop his arms around Glorfindel’s neck. Glorfindel let his hands come up to rest on Erestor’s sides, and their noses were almost touching, eyes burning into one another’s as Erestor asked, “Glorfindel, would you like to take advantage of this secluded little hollow, and engage in activities that will _definitely _mean we won’t return to Imladris in time for dinner?”

Just before he leant in to kiss him, Glorfindel murmured against Erestor’s lips, “Yes, I very much think I would.”


End file.
